Summer (drabble)
Summer; Tao-centric; g; slight angst; general
Walking on the beach alone is the perfect remedy for Zitao.
Day 18/30 of my 30 day challenge.
Summer;
Everyone has different ways of relieving stress. Some like to punch any kind of inanimate object, hopefully, like an overly fluffed pillow or something of the sort. Some like to lock themselves up in their closets and cry and cry and cry till their throats become hoarse. In Zitao's case, he likes to take walks along the shorelines.
Summer is his favorite season, and it makes sense considering his birthday isn’t too far off from it. The days are lengthier, the weather is warmer, and the air smells thick of saltwater mist from nearby beaches, and people are out more, mingling with their friends.
Zitao likes to stroll on the beach alone, bare feet and all because he likes the feeling of grainy sand slipping through the crevices of his toes. Watching waves overlap and crash against the shorelines was something he found to be relatively calming. He’s mostly an avid thinker; he doesn’t talk much not because he’s shy or introverted, but because he likes to observe things from a distance and ponder upon it for a long time.
It’s summer, and now that their activities were at a standstill, Zitao decided to visit Muchangpo Beach while the others were back in their dorms. He has his moments when he feels the lowest of the low for no apparent reason. One minute he’s fine, mingling with the members and other staff and the next, he’s expressionless and stays mostly to himself.
No one knows why he has these sudden changes in his mood, but they decide to give him his space and not discuss it with him about it. In certain situations such as this, it’s better to keep quiet, and Zitao appreciates that.
His pants are rolled up to his knees, water cascading towards the shores, almost soaking the lower half of his legs. He was dangerously close towards the edge, but he doesn’t move away from the oncoming water. It’s cold, but somehow he likes it.
One tear falls. Then two, then three. Zitao always cries when he’s stressed. At a certain point, everything becomes too much to handle, everything makes him on edge. When he’s reached his limit, everything explodes into infinitesimals of emotions.
A few minutes is all he needs to be fine again, and then he heads back home.
Walking on the beach alone is the perfect remedy for Zitao.
Day 18/30 of my 30 day challenge.
Summer;
Everyone has different ways of relieving stress. Some like to punch any kind of inanimate object, hopefully, like an overly fluffed pillow or something of the sort. Some like to lock themselves up in their closets and cry and cry and cry till their throats become hoarse. In Zitao's case, he likes to take walks along the shorelines.
Summer is his favorite season, and it makes sense considering his birthday isn’t too far off from it. The days are lengthier, the weather is warmer, and the air smells thick of saltwater mist from nearby beaches, and people are out more, mingling with their friends.
Zitao likes to stroll on the beach alone, bare feet and all because he likes the feeling of grainy sand slipping through the crevices of his toes. Watching waves overlap and crash against the shorelines was something he found to be relatively calming. He’s mostly an avid thinker; he doesn’t talk much not because he’s shy or introverted, but because he likes to observe things from a distance and ponder upon it for a long time.
It’s summer, and now that their activities were at a standstill, Zitao decided to visit Muchangpo Beach while the others were back in their dorms. He has his moments when he feels the lowest of the low for no apparent reason. One minute he’s fine, mingling with the members and other staff and the next, he’s expressionless and stays mostly to himself.
No one knows why he has these sudden changes in his mood, but they decide to give him his space and not discuss it with him about it. In certain situations such as this, it’s better to keep quiet, and Zitao appreciates that.
His pants are rolled up to his knees, water cascading towards the shores, almost soaking the lower half of his legs. He was dangerously close towards the edge, but he doesn’t move away from the oncoming water. It’s cold, but somehow he likes it.
One tear falls. Then two, then three. Zitao always cries when he’s stressed. At a certain point, everything becomes too much to handle, everything makes him on edge. When he’s reached his limit, everything explodes into infinitesimals of emotions.
A few minutes is all he needs to be fine again, and then he heads back home.